


The beginning... all over again

by clueless_psycho



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 10:11:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless_psycho/pseuds/clueless_psycho
Summary: The beginning... all over again





	

title: The beginning… all over again  
author : clueless_psycho  
fandom: Viewfinder/Yamane Ayano  
characters/pairing: Asami/Akihito  
disclaimer: Yamane Ayano owns all.  
rating: NC17  
warning: some angst, smut, no beta  
summary: written for Akihito Birthday theme 2009 in club_sion

Originally posted in LJ on 4 May 2009

 

Kirishima showed up at eleven sharp as arranged. He had two men in blue jumpsuits with him.

“Ready?” Kirishima asked casually.

“Yes,” Akihito nodded. He did not want to turn around, to look at his apartment again, but he had too, otherwise the men in jumpsuits would mess things up and he did not want that. 

“Those boxes are my personal belongings. Be careful, I have written down what’s inside. Be careful with the cameras,” he began moving through the boxes scattered on the floor. They contained his life. His entire life. “These boxes – are old stuff. Clothes, shoes,” he paused to take a deep breath. “If you don’t mind, can you take them to the junkyard and leave them there?”

“No worries,” Kirishima nodded firmly and Akihito wished that he was not that crisp. It was eleven in the morning and he was ditching his previous life, he deserved a little sympathy.

“Umm… don’t stack them up,” Akihito added as he hauled his backpack up his right shoulder. “I don’t want anything broken.” His most precious camera, his first one, the one his father gave him, was in the backpack. There was no way he would put in it a box and let someone he did not know take care of it.

“Yes, definitely,” Kirishima said patiently.

“I have to return the keys to the management first,” Akihito said. The keys in his pocket suddenly gained so much more weight they felt like they were made of solid lead and they wouldn’t let him move.

“Suoh is waiting for you outside,” Kirishima said. “I’ll take care of this.”

Akihito nodded. “Thank you.” Much to his disappointment, his voice came as a choked whisper. Then he walked away, out of the apartment that was his lair, his comfort zone and his safe hole since the first day he arrived in Tokyo, as he made sheer effort not to look back as he headed for the elevator.

* * *

“We’re going to miss you,” Ashida-san, the apartment manager, said as Akihito handed him the keys.

Akihito doubted that. This apartment building was always in demand for vacant space. He knew that one second after he notified Ashida-san that he would move out, Ashida already signed up a new occupant.

“I left the TV set, refrigerator and microwave,” Akihito explained. “They’re new. If the new people don’t want them, just give them away.”

“Yes, of course,” Ashida-san nodded. “I will notify you whatever decision we make.”

Akihito stared at Ashida-san and wondered if he ever saw Ashida-san younger than this. How long had he known Ashida-san? Four years? Five? Six? Ashida-san seemed to look the same since the day he signed up for the unit. He did not remember seeing Ashida-san in clothes other than white shirt, grey pants and dark blue knitted vest.

“Thanks for everything, Ashida-san,” Akihito finally said, feeling like there was a lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking right.

“If you need anything, do please call me,” Ashida-san said once again and for a split second Akihito thought that Ashida-san was really going to miss him.

They shared curt bows, then Akihito turned around, wondering if Ashida-san was relieved now that there would be no more midnight visits from two bulky bodyguards in black suits who wouldn’t answer to anybody but Asami.

* * *

Suoh did not bring the limousine. He had a black convertible BMW with the sun-roof down. 

“Do you want to drive her?” Suoh asked.

Akihito frowned. He didn’t expect that. “Can I?” 

Suoh shrugged. “Sure.”

“I’m terrible in driving.” The car looked big and intimidating.

Suoh shrugged again. “I won’t tell. Besides, there’s an autopilot mode.”

Akihito burst into a short laughter. He tossed his backpack to the backseat, then he walked around to the driver’s seat.

“If anything happens,” he said as he cramped himself behind the steering wheel, “I won’t be held responsibility.”

“Thanks God for insurance,” Suoh commented as he buckled himself at the passenger’s seat.

“Now, where should we go?”

* * *

Akihito took a deep breath when the waitress in silk kimono slid the private room of The Kamiya House open. Asami was already inside, sitting on the tatami in his immaculate suit but no tie. The lack of tie looked like a bad sign to him. Akihito joined him on the tatami.

“Thanks for joining me for lunch,” Asami said.

Akihito wanted to snap at him to remind him that he did not actually have any choice when Asami called him up and told him that he’d expect Akihito for lunch at The Kamiya House, but he held his tongue back and only nodded with his eyes on the table. “I’ve never been here.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” Asami said. 

“Sake or green tea?” the waitress asked as she sat on the tatami too.

“Sake,” Asami said.

Akihito lifted his eyes. “Isn’t it too early?” 

“It’ll be good for a change,” Asami said lightly as the waitress set a cup in front of Akihito and filled it with sake. “This one’s from Saijou, Hiroshima. They make the best sake in the world.”

Akihito took the cup and brought it slowly to his lips, afraid of tipping it. He pressed the brim of the cup to his lips and he inhaled the sweet, heady scent of the liquid and he had the image of bride and groom drinking sake to seal the bond. He closed his eyes.

The sake was warm and sweet and tangy and delicious and Akihito sipped it slowly, savoring the burning feeling of his tongue. He hoped he would not get drunk because he had not had breakfast yet apart from a few biscuits as he was too busy wrapping up the packing and he did not have plates and cups and chopsticks… he coughed a little when a drop of sake strayed to his throat. He opened his eyes. “Sorry,” he put the cup down.

“You just have to get used to it I think,” Asami said lightly. Akihito was convinced that it was a message. But at least, the sake lightened his mood.

A sashimi boat arrived and Akihito had never seen anything like it. He had sashimi boat before, but this one was just huge and very decorative and he could actually eat the decorations because they were made of vegetables and fruits. Slices of raw, fresh fish gave him the feeling that they were still breathing.

“If you don’t like it…,” Asami started speaking again.

“No, no, no, this is fine, this is perfect,” Akihito cut him off. “I just… sorry… I have never seen anything like this before.”

“Take your time,” Asami said as he broke his chopsticks. “We have all afternoon.”

Akihito took a slice of salmon, dipped it in soyu sauce, put a little wasabi on it and brought it to his mouth. The fish was spectacular, fresh like ocean water mixed with the sharpness of wasabi and saltiness of soyu, but Akihito felt like he was chewing on a piece of cardboard.

“You okay?” he heard Asami asked and he opened his eyes, realizing that he closed his eyes while trying to enjoy the salmon.

He swallowed the fish. “Yeah. Yes,” he nodded.

“Do you like the car?” asked Asami again.

Akihito widened his eyes a little. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s superb.”

Asami gave him a little smile. “Good. I almost thought that you didn’t like it.”

Akihito frowned. “Why? Does it matter?”

“It does. I bought it for you.”

* * *

“You sure you want to do this?” Asami asked as Akihito started fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. His fingers were trembling a little and he wished they didn’t.

Akihito looked up, stared into Asami’s eyes. “It’s not like you to ask first,” he said. 

Asami shrugged. “But if you don’t want to…”

“Yes, I want to,” Akihito pursed his lips. He asked for it when they were waiting for dessert earlier at The Kamiya House. Asami had agreed, mentioning that he did not have anything urgent until seven in the evening. And so they went back to Asamis penthouse because, really, Akihito had no other place to go. That or they had to end up in a hotel room.

He had never asked Asami before.

Asami had never asked him before. Asami just took him as he wished.

And now Asami stood in front of him and let him undress the man. He had never done it before. It was Asami who ripped his clothes off and most of the times, Asami still had his clothes on when he took pleasure from Akihito’s body.

But at this very moment, Asami just stood with his cigarette between his lips, waiting patiently as Akihito popped the buttons of his shirt open one by one slowly with trembling fingers.

He put his cigarette down in an ashtray on the night stand after Akihito pulled his shirt down completely to reveal well-toned chest and abs hidden under a wife-beater.

Akihito took a deep breath. His knees felt very week, he felt like he could fall anytime. Asami’s heady scent attacking his system made it difficult for him to breathe properly, but he blamed it on his churning stomach.

“Want me to finish?” Asami offered.

“No,” Akihito shook his head and reached for the hem of Asami’s wife beater. He pulled it up over Asami’s head, tiptoeing as he reached above Asami’s head, and he had to lean very close to Asami, he could smell Asami’s breath and the lingering scent of his after-shave and tobacco in his mouth, and he found himself leaning closer and tasted Asami’s lips.

And he lowered his arms on Asami’s shoulders and snaked them around Asami’s neck and he slipped his tongue into Asami’s willing mouth and Asami locked the kiss with his lips around Akihito’s tongue.

And they fell on the bed, their bodies bouncing together when they hit the springy mattress.

And Asami kissed him harder as he used one hand to pin Akihito’s wrists together on the bed, and slipped his other hand under Akihito’s shirt. But he stopped there.

Akihito watched as Asami tore away from him. “It’s…,” he swallowed hard, his lips felt suddenly very dry, “it’s… okay…”

Asami smirked, then he rolled into Akihito’s side. “Let’s do it, then,” he said.

Akihito quickly shrugged from his jacket. As he went through the buttons of his shirt frantically, Asami caught his wrist to stop him. “Slowly,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

It was awkward, to unbutton his shirt slowly while Asami watched him in eagle-like expression. He did methodically, like he always did. He wondered if Asami wanted him to put on a show, but he did not want to. He just wanted to have sex with Asami and be done with it. It was not like he still had to win Asami over. They got each other now, Akihito did not see the point of making himself look better than he already was.

Asami did not say or do anything when Akihito quickly freed himself from his jeans. And because he did not move either, Akihito took the liberty to sprawl his body on top of Asami’s, chest to chest, groin to groin and mouth to mouth. Asami lifted his arms up and Akihito pressed his palms on Asami’s arms to pin them on the bed. It would not have any effect, Asami could flip him over like he was a toy, but Asami did not move, did not fight back, and so Akihito ravished him in earnest as Asami moved his hips up and down to tease him.

When Akihito broke the kiss to breathe, he was positive that he would not be able to hold himself back for too much longer. He could feel his erection, heavy between his thighs and dripping through his underwear. Asami was no different. But Asami did not look like arousal affected him in anyway. Akihito lapped his tongue along his dry lips that had suddenly gone very dry.

Asami lowered one arm. “What about losing this first?” he asked as he pulled Akihito’s briefs down. “You’ll feel much better.”

Indeed he felt much better without anything confining his hard-on.

“Come on, move up a little,” Asami talked again as he placed his hands on Akihito’s hips and pulled him up.

“No… oh God, no,” Akihito breathed. He braced his hands and knees on the bed, anticipating the worst.

“I’ll be gentle,” Asami said. Then he kissed the tip of Akihito’s cock.

Akihito did not get to protest. Asami was quicker in popping his cock into his mouth. He shivered when he was hit by a huge wave of pleasure as Asami’s lips tightened around the base of his cock. “Asami… aaa… ,” he winced when Asami’s tongue flicked along the slit of his cock.

When Asami released his cock, his knees gave away, and Akihito fell on the bed, panting and whimpering. Asami shifted on his side and kissed his temple, and then he moved to cover Akihito with his own body.

Akihito did not remember when Asami lost his pants and briefs and he did not care either. He lifted his legs voluntarily and put his knees on Asami’s shoulders. He whimpered again when Asami prepared him with two slick, very determined fingers. And he moaned when Asami entered him with one slow, languorous stroke that took the last bit of his self-control away.

He threw his arms around Asami’s neck, holding on tightly as Asami began to move.

“This is okay?” Asami spoke with his lips on Akihito’s hair.

“Yyyyye.. yes.”

“Want faster? A little?”

Akihito took a deep breath. Pleasures filled his veins in waves in sync with Asami’s movement and he had trouble keeping up with it.

“Yesh.”

“A little harder too?”

He did not know how Asami could make himself even harder. Asami felt like steel inside him, except that the man was warm. No. Hot. So hot, it created flames inside Akihito’s body. Akihito nodded anyway for not being able to find his own voice to speak.

And Asami pounded a little harder and a little faster, and Akihito moaned and lifted his feet up higher to take more Asami and then Asami kissed him and he devoured Asami’s lips like they were delicious desserts and he lifted his feet up a little more higher and he tore his arms away from Asami’s neck and grabbed the bed sheet for support as he lost himself in the maddening spirals of sexual pleasure.

* * *

Asami kissed him when he was still sleeping and the scent of fresh cologne woke him up. Akihito fluttered his eyes open slowly as he kissed Asami back, tasting the man’s lips and teeth with the tip of his tongue. Asami tasted of toothpaste, minty and refreshing, and he was fully dressed and ready to go for his seven pm meeting.

“I have to go now,” Asami murmured in his ear, grazing lips along his earlobe before ending it with a gentle bite. 

Akihito nodded.

Asami inhaled deeply, then he kissed Akihito again. “I’ll see you later,” he said as he finally tore away from Akihito.

Akihito nodded again.

Asami rolled his eyes in a way that Akihito had never seen before and if he did not know Asami already, he would think that Asami was teasing him. “Will you be here when I come back?” he asked.

Akihito stared into Asami’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Promise?” Asami tilted his head.

“Yes.”

Asami kissed him one more time, then he left.

Akihito stayed still in bed until the tingling feeling all over his skin dissipated. He stretched and yawned and he got out of the bed, dragging the blanket with him to cover his naked body to the bathroom. It was silly of course because he was the only one in the penthouse, but he did it anyway because he could.

He showered, using Asami’s expensive toiletries, keeping the hot water running above his head as he washed his hair, soaped his body and brushed his teeth. He did have to worry about gas bill ever again and it was indeed delightful to waste hot water on his body.

He toweled himself dry, using three towels of different sizes, then he put on Asami’s yukata. It felt sinful on his skin, it was made of the finest cotton and therefore very expensive, but Akihito now understood why Asami was addicted to them.

His next destination was the kitchen because he was hungry. Asami’s kitchen and fridge were well-stocked with all kinds of fancy food like assorted pasta and jars of bolognaise sauce, frozen buns you can toss into the microwave to warm up, and dried fruits, but no instant ramen or cereals. Not usually. Akihito almost could not believe to see six large boxes of different cereals and half a dozen of instant ramen on the kitchen counter. He was surprised even more that there were actually two cartons of fresh milk in the fridge. 

He ate cereals with milk, carrying the bowl to the living room to turn on the 42” flat TV, setting the channel on MTV. It was time for Pimp My Ride, and that evening’s episode was about turning a completely battered, half burnt and almost broken 1988 Mazda 323 into a sleek, very futuristic looking sportscar. Akihito laughed. Then he remembered about the BMW and he stopped laughing. He put the bowl down on the table.

He had never thought that he would own a car one day, let alone the latest BMW. It felt obscene, especially because Asami bought it for him, but there were indeed some advantages.

No more running after a bus because he was late.

No more running along the subway station to catch the right subway.

No more spending money unnecessarily for taxi.

He sighed, not knowing whether he was happy or… he should be. But he felt awkward.

He got up from the sofa. The penthouse had three bedrooms. The biggest one was Asami’s bedroom. Asami had turned one of the other two into some sort of study/library, with huge working desk and bookshelves along the walls. The third one was set as a guest bedroom but Asami had never had guests stay in the penthouse, except Akihito. And when that happened, Akihito slept in Asami’s bedroom.

And now Asami did not need a guest bedroom at all.

Akihito headed towards the closed door.

He opened the door slowly as if he was opening the door to his death. As if he was in a haunted house and he did not know what was waiting behind the door.

He knew what was waiting. What were waiting.

The boxes.

The boxes containing what remained from his previous life. His precious cameras. His good clothes and shoes. His computer and laptop. Anything that wouldn’t look too embarrassing in Asami’s upscale penthouse.

The boxes were lined neatly on the floor, none stacked on each other like he had instructed Kirishima. His suitcase and traveling bag were near the bed. And the bed had been changed from twin beds into one queen bed. And he realized that the room had been redesigned to accommodate his needs.

There was a table with a ergonomic swiveling chair. There was a bookshelf, small but adequate. There was a 21” TV on top of a drawer cabinet. There was a wardrobe with four doors. He did not enough clothes to fill the wardrobe.

Akihito opened the door and found clothes inside the wardrobe. Two sets of suits – one black and one dark brown. Expensive suit, nothing you could get in a department store for under fifty thousand yen. Probably custom-made, judging from the look of them. 

Then there were also half a dozen shirts of finest cotton. Just like the yukata he wore. Ties. Silk ties. And two pairs of patent leather shoes and one pair of Nike. He let himself laugh at the sneakers. Then there were t-shirts too and jeans and underwear. All new, all designer’s items, and definitely terribly expensive. Akihito wondered whether Asami picked them up himself or he sent his secretary or he paid someone, perhaps his own fashion advisor, to do it.

Akihito closed the wardrobe and pressed his forehead on the wooden panel that made the door. He inhaled slowly, exhaled as slowly. He thought: and then what?

He inhaled again, knowing that then he would wait for Asami to come back because he had promised.

* * *

~end


End file.
